


Beautiful Nothing

by taoris



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1889391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taoris/pseuds/taoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere along a preternatural job Zitao finds an interesting patient he never thought will play a very crucial role in his life. And his potential breakdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> my entry for the tao fic exchange in livejournal

_** Y ** earn _

  
  
  
  
  
Zitao has already done the math. Almost a million dollar for an entire year, benefits resting on top of a golden velvet and a life insurance that can cover all of his expenses for his entire life—there’s nothing more he can ask for.  
  
Maybe an extended break but there’s nothing much to do in his free time inside the company, he’s stuck fifty miles or so below the ground and the food served every twelve o’clock on his desk is way better than the calorie-inducing snacks he can buy from the nearest convenient store. He can’t help but think if the food he’s being given is also the same as what his patients receive, do they eat apple pies? Are they allowed to eat apple pies? Do they even know what an apple pie is?  
  
He takes another bite as he expects nothing to answer back at him. Questions never get reciprocated back as replies in the basement, they simply litter the air like stars—shining brightly aloft but ungraspable like beach sand on salt water, yet they linger, bugging him until it gets on his nerves. His phone alarms a few moments after he’s finished with his snack, playing an R&B song Yifan set a few weeks back that none of his officemates have yet heard and will never  _ever_  hear since he’s planning to change it soon without the older knowing. He lazily stands from his chair and puts his lab coat back on, and he realizes he looks so old with the attire,  _but dashing_ Yifan will never fail to add whenever Zitao will frown before a mirror.  
  
Zitao dashes outside within a span of a minute.  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**O** asis_   


  
  
  
  
  
Zitao never feels secured enough inside the basement. Heels clack against tiled flooring. Breaths huff in enclosed walls. Every hallway in the underground is a threshold of infinity, it always feels as if Zitao will never reach the dorms in a matter of an hour, the travel is always too long, too torturous.  
  
Since it is still noon, he still needs to attend to the ward which never gets occupied unless there are new clones in line for the third phase, or ‘patients’ that need medical attention and he spends the entire afternoon sorting the medicine prescriptions for all of his patients before he distributes them to three different dorms.  
  
Among everything that he’s been doing in this job, the night part is his favorite. Getting to visit different dorms, staying for five minutes long to check on vital data and getting a chance to converse with his patients, it’s probably one of the reasons why Zitao doesn’t bother about the Maths and Physics that his work has given him; he’s happy, but there’s nothing more beautiful than seeing hope glisten people’s eyes. No matter how much of a lie he feeds them, they will keep believing him anyway.  
  
Zitao stops midway the ward when he sees a body lying in one of the hospital bed, dressed in blue gown, pale skin—an indicator that it is a clone—in complete contrast with its honey brown locks lying peacefully on his forehead. Zitao thinks he knows the guy but does not press himself into remembering since he needs to do his job first, he saunters toward a busy Yixing who doesn’t leave his gaze from the papers and pills before him. Yixing’s a doctor just like himself but is assigned into different dorms, normally Zitao will see him and his fake deceiving smile across the hallways in the basement and he cannot help but think why Yixing gives fake smiles instead of real ones to his patients, it’s the only hope they can hold on to anyway, no matter how false it can be.  
  
“Portmanteau?” he asks to Yixing, referring to the lying clone on the bed.  
  
“He has no portmanteau yet.” Yixing says, pausing from humming by himself as he arranges pills and papers on his table.  
  
“A new one?” his brow quirks up. The only clones with no portmanteaus are the ones set to be in the third phase—new ones.  
  
Yixing only hums in agreement, not bothering to spare Zitao a single glance. Zitao sits before his table, just right beside Yixing’s and browses through the folder he has sorted a few nights before.  
  
“I thought the company will not be releasing new clones until the start of spring?”  
  
He sighs, finally looking up at Zitao. “This one looks quite special, I heard they rushed him during the first phase but still managed to pull out a nice outcome.” The first phase of making a clone is connecting bones, flesh, limbs, tissues and every single organ together; the most crucial part of the process. Once everything is perfectly copied from the Initials, then the body is moved to the second phase—the mental phase. Clones are given memories taken from their Initials, although nothing can be too vivid. These memories remain as the clone’s recurring dream, sometimes a nightmare; they depend on what the Initials’ thoughts are during the mimeograph. The third phase starts when the clone comes into the strings of consciousness, the Portmanteaus given will be based on the type of insurance the Initial paid—the highest is the insurance 1, DBSK, ranging about a hundred million to a billion dollars. There have only been five DBSK insured clones so far, all either royalties or corrupt individuals. The second is the EXO, one of the largest numbered insurance in the company—even Zitao got his own clone in EXO, too bad he stopped funding it after a year since the money invested for this is no joke. Ever since he stopped paying the dorm got assigned to him, making Zitao think if this has been a way to make him get back his insurance again.  
  
“No portmanteau yet? Does that mean he won’t be waking up anytime soon?”  
  
Yixing only shrugs.  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**U** topia_   


  
  
  
  
  
Zitao is a doctor for two different purposes—the first one is to cure while the second purpose is to lie. Working for the Klonos made Zitao a great liar, even to his own boyfriend. Yifan, surely he does know all of the dark secrets that the Klonos has, but he has been oblivious of how much Zitao has changed in a span of a year. Or maybe Yifan’s quite good in lying too. But it can never be a lie, the lovely gazes Yifan always sets to him, the warm smile that welcomes him during the morning, the soft touch Zitao always begs for—they’re all so genuine it can’t be lies.  
  
He is a doctor to cure. Mastering Genetics and Biochemistry for nine years has not made Zitao to expect landing in one of the most classified organizations in the world—The Klonos. The company gave him a big starting pay and even let him study pharmacology for two years while working in the basement. And that’s when he mastered the art of lying, simultaneously.  
  
He can never call the patients in the basement ignorants since they are being fed false information and being starved from the truth. Falsifying facts comes to him now as a second nature, sticking like a leech and sucking off blood from him in order to survive, in order to hold onto his name and profession. Sometimes Zitao thinks having to lie is a mandatory process in order to maintain the PhD attached to his name, right just next to shame.  
  
The groan on the other side of the ward startles Zitao, leaving him out of his thoughts. Another grunt of pain is heard and Zitao dashes off to the side of his patient, his patient’s palms are shaking and he’s sweating—as if he’s about to wake up, he checks his pulse and sees it increasing. Zitao runs to his desk and taps the digits on the 5g that he barely uses. A face comes up as soon as the call is answered.  
  
“This is Doctor Huang and the patient at ward one is about to wake up.”  
  
“Registered.” says the face and the call comes to an end. It only takes a matter of seconds when two men in lab coat enter the ward and pull the hospital bed toward the E.R.. Which reminds Zitao that you can never spell emergency without emerge. The mystery whether which dorm the last patient will be included gets heaved out of his mind as soon as Yixing hands him another folder of paperworks.  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**M** endacity_   


  
  
  
  
  
The first round is in the SNSD quarters which often reminds Zitao of models in an army—too stiff and programmed but pretty and tall. They’re probably beauty queens, or models and idols—he isn’t quite sure, but the nose bridges and large eyes indicate they aren’t just normal people you’ll bump to in the streets of Seoul. It doesn’t even take half an hour to finish the nightly check ups in the SNSD dorms, the girls don’t talk at all, they just obey whatever he says and answer whatever question Zitao throws on them; It’s as scary as talking to robots.  
  
The second round becomes the most complicated one every time, the SHINee quarters is composed of glasses resting on thin threads—too delicate to hold, too fragile to manage. This is a special type of insurance where the initials are already sick and need a vital cure by surgeries. There’s SHINee Taemin 0718, the patient Zitao and Yixing monitor at the same time whose initial suffers under the deadly grip of arrhythmia. Since the clone came from the same genes, they still monitor whether its heartbeat will have its normal pace or become like its initial’s—bradycardia.  
  
The last round is more like a nursery, filled with loud patients and louder migraine that is set to transpire by the end of the day. The EXO quarter is filled with many patients in comparison to his first two rounds and that meant many headaches as well, for the patients in this quarter are much more demanding for attention and answers, something Zitao cannot quite weigh. Their number’s twice larger than the first two dorms he is assigned to, but the amount of headache just got multiplied by trillions. EXO Chanyeol 1127 who, for the sake of all that is holy, makes Zitao thinks he’s in a mental institute rather than a basement dorm. He’s giddy and gets excited over every meeting and bugs Zitao when the hell he would be able to go to the Island, if it weren’t for the high paying job and his suffering debit account he had long told the clone that he will  _never_  be able to go to the Island because first, there’s no such place as the Island; second, his Initial is as healthy as fuck (who happens to be an actor and his former fling, he reckons they don’t have that much difference in terms of personality—they’re both annoying, the Initial only possesses quite a huge amount of air in his head); and third, the clone is still not in its perfect shape. It will take a while for him to leave the dorms.  
  
Instead of his usual ten stops in the dorm, another one added to the list (must be the new patient, Zitao thought) and it surprises Zitao—the fact that this patient looks like a doll, and how reserved he is, which is unlikely for the patients during their first few days in the dorm to act since they usually panic for not remembering anything or cry at him or do something inexplicably ridiculous. The patient sits calmly and weirdly enough on the bed at the corner of the room and barely looks up when Zitao enters. Zitao clears his throat then fakes a smile and says, “Welcome to the basement.”  
  
Brown orbs greet Zitao back with a smile which gives the doctor an inexplicable churning in his stomach that he somehow manages to ignore by sitting before his patient and introducing himself.  
  
“I’m Doctor Huang Zitao. Your portmanteau?” he asks.  
  
The patient hesitates for a while before looking at him beneath his long eyelashes and saying, “E-EXO Luhan... 0420.”  
  
“Good. How’s your stay in here?” he examines the patient as EXO Luhan 0420 purses his lips and licks it, sticking his tongue out unconsciously—a habit Zitao thinks he probably got from his Initial.  
  
“F-Fine.”  
  
“Don’t be so tense around me. I’m Doctor Huang.” he offers him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  
  
“I’m s-sorry.” he looks away and Zitao sees the blush on his cheeks.  
  
“Anyway, I’ll be visiting you here from now on, same time every night. So you have no reason to be shy with me. I’ll be monitoring your health for you to be able to go to the Island.”  
  
He notices EXO Luhan 0420’s eyes widening, like a child seeing a toy for this first time in his life. “The Island?”  
  
“Yes. The Island.” he offers him a smile that looks so genuine it hurts.  
  
“I... I’ve heard.” EXO Luhan 0420’s eyes shine with what seems to be a gleam of hope, to what generally transcribes to Zitao as a ray of despair.  
  
“I’m glad. Anyway let me have your hand for a while.” he checks the patient’s wrist, ignoring the steel bracelet wrapped on it which is as cold as the suffocating air in the room. The pulse of the patient is faster than normal, which can be classified as tachycardia—that or EXO Luhan 0420 is just nervous around Huang Zitao’s presence. “Calm down,” he spurts out suddenly, seeing the patient’s silent gasp which Zitao finds cute. “Or I won’t get your pulse right. You don’t want to stay here for quite a while, would you?”  
  
The clone shakes his head, looking terrified. “I’m sorry,” he looks down again, biting on his lower lip. “I... I thought I will spend the night alone.”  
  
“Everyone spends their nights alone here in the basement. You’re no different than them.”  
  
“Everyone’s lonely too?”  
  
Zitao’s eyebrow quirks up at the question but he just hums in agreement to answer the patient’s curious question.  
  
“How does it feel?”  
  
“What is?”  
  
“Seeing everyone lonely?”  
  
Zitao stops from counting his pulse then looks at his patients in the eye and for the first time, he does not lie, “Horrible.”  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**A** lacrity_   


  
  
  
  
  
Zitao comes home to a sleeping Yifan in the couch. He smiles to himself as he watches the older snore lightly with his mouth slightly agape. He turns to leave, heel clacking against the tiled floor when Yifan stirs, Zitao finds himself jumping in surprise a few seconds after when he suddenly gets pulled towards the man, landing on top of Yifan where he releases a chuckle and looks at the older.  
  
“How was work?” Yifan ask, voice husky while looking at him through half-lidded eyes.  
  
“Fine.” He says and projects a fake smile. It’s not like he treats Yifan like one of his patients, lying through forced smiles and the likes, but he lies to him because sometimes there’s no option left for him but to do so. Ever since he started working in the basement, a wall has been constructed between them, a barrier only Zitao can see.  
  
Yifan hums, nodding as he closes his eyes and stifles a yawn. His arms loosens around Zitao’s waist and he takes it as an opportunity to pull away from him.  
  
“Have you had your dinner yet?” Zitao asks as Yifan groans from the release of his body against his.  
  
“Nope.”  
  
Zitao marches through the kitchen, checking the fridge that he always finds empty at the end of the day. He releases a sigh and mentally notes himself to pass by the grocery once he gets a vacant time. “Take out?” he shouts over, closing the door of the fridge.  
  
He hears no answer from Yifan but feels two arms wrapping around his waist. “How about I take you instead?”  
  
Zitao feels the tingling lips of Yifan planting soft kisses on his nape.  
  
“You smell great.” Yifan whispers, his sleepy voice that gets too rough and husky sends hot breath on Zitao’s ear that lights all of the electricity jolting down his spine to fire. He plants one last long kiss on Zitao’s nape this time, eliciting a loud exhale that he isn’t able to stop.  
  
“Yifan...” Zitao mewls as he closes his eyes and bites his lower lip. How long have they done it? A month? A two? Zitao has already lost count of it; replaced by the maths of his salary, the science of his job and the perfect english of his lies that earned him A grades in the eyes of his bosses. Yifan’s too busy with the cases he has been assigned to, barely having a time like this—a time to make out, a time to explore each other's bodies, a time to do what they have truly live for.  
  
A time when Yifan dips his head down and starts sucking on his shoulder blades, when Yifan's hand gets lost inside his pants, soft big hands rubbing against Zitao's half hard cock and when Yifan whispers sweet things he half meant, but means everything to Zitao. It's time like these moments that he regrets not getting something more normal of a job. At times like this he wishes, the wall will somehow collapse. He wishes.  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**K** ismet_   


  
  
  
  
  
Maybe it's fated. To feel this good whenever Yifan will kiss him, whenever he'll taste him like cherries in spring, whenever Yifan will hold his hips tight enough for a bruise to surface a few minutes after the heated frenzy; to feel ecstasy running in his blood with every thrust Yifan does, with every whispers of sweet nothings he get as Yifan's lips trail across his shoulders and neck, with every bruise that temporarily marks Zitao as Yifan's possession. Maybe it's fated with every rhythmed dance they do in bed—perfectly flawed steps and sweet melodies coming off their mouths with every moan. Maybe meeting YIfan was destiny's luck. Maybe the wall between them is just a cruel barrier trying to block his feelings away from loving Yifan. Maybe everything's meant to be in the first place.  
  
Zitao wakes up the next day to an empty side of the bed. He'll leave—of course, he always does. Yifan never gives Zitao enough time. Selfishness. It's what Zitao has always craved for. Selfishness. To have Yifan all by himself all day. Selfishness. It's what Zitao has never been able to possess but it avoids him like the plague.  ~~Maybe it's meant to be.~~  
  
Zitao skips breakfast after an empty fridge welcomes him the second time around in twelve hours, deciding to grab a take-out from a fast food to eat before work. He enters the hospital with a bag of burger and cholesterol filled fries, ready to shorten his lifespan for a few minutes. Work will not start until after 10 minutes and he still has enough time to eat his breakfast in his cubicle in the office room. As he is about to sit down though, the bright neon yellow post-it catches his attention that is haphazardly taped on the screen of his monitor. He lazily picks it up and furrows his brows at Yixing's neat penmanship.  
  
"Department's in chaos. Continue my work: S-4 to 5:3. Anodynes are inside the last drawer of cubicle 46. Browse my notes in the tab if you need help. Don't worry. Nothing major."  
  
By reading the last two sentences, he eases up and glares at his take out burger then immediately regrets buying breakfast. Why shall Yixing leave today of all days? He won't be able to eat with Yixing patrolling and since no one's around in the ward, maybe he can secretly eat there. There are a lot of possibilities that Yixing will walk in to him having his breakfast, but his stomach matters more than his job right now.  
  
He reaches the ward and sits on Yixing's table, putting the paperbag on it as he finds more notes. Thick marks of pentel pen dried still on it.  
  
 _"•••/---/--/•/---/-•/• -•-/-•/---/•--/•••"_  
  
Zitao freezes, a hand stays suspended in the air before he even gets to grasp his breakfast.  
  
He stands up and goes to the cubicle, searching for the Anodynes Yixing was working on yesterday.  
  
 _"-/••••/•/-•--/’/•-•/• •••/••-/•••/•--•/•/-•-•/-/••/-•/--• ••-/•••"_  
  
Zitao immediately closes the cubicle door. Of course Yixing would have finished everything by the night. For now he would have to deal with morse.  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**E** nemy_   


  
  
  
  
  
_Someone knows._  
  
Yixing has made it a habit to talk through codes, a language that transcribes within a chemist's mind, a barrier between the confidential and not. It has been Yixing who has known everything.  
  
Zitao gets it a little too much. He knows the way Yixing thinks—an explosion of uncertainties but slow and sure movements, like a feline too hyper-aware of his prey.  
  
 _They're suspecting us._  
  
Of course they will suspect the doctors, Zitao and Yixing do rounds every night, almost the only people who come in the nearest touching proximity with the patients.  
  
Zitao shakes the thoughts off his head as he walks toward the last room for tonight's round, room 2947—EXO Luhan 0420.  
  
He enters the room with a tray of medicine in his hands—vitamins and some supplements, he did some review about the newest patient and he learned that he's a clone of the newest soccer team that's been leading in the World Cup.  
  
Heart ailment. Lung disease. Blood circulation problems. Kidney and Stone diseases.  
  
Those are the apparent cases his initial may be experiencing or will suffer through, a pretty lot for an athlete. Zitao notes to himself that he shall set more eyes on this patient.  
  
EXO Luhan 0420 stands up immediately as soon as Zitao opens the door and he gets welcomed with a smile that Zitao confuses first for hope.  
  
"You came back..." 0420 mutters, smile never leaving his expression.  
  
"Of course.  ~~It's my job.~~  I told you that I'll be helping you to go to the Island, didn't I?" He smiles sadly to Luhan as he ushers him to go back and sit on his bed.  
  
Luhan does as what he is told to, he sits idly on the edge of the bed and eyes the bottle of medicine Zitao hands him.  
  
"Take one and drink. The usual."  
  
Luhan nods and takes the lid off, then eyes the pills inside. Zitao frowns when a weak laugh escapes Luhan's mouth. "This is silly."  
  
Zitao stares at him. Luhan looks up to him, doe eyes visible beneath a thick layer of lashes.  
  
"It's like me."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"But at the same time, it's not." Luhan's smile drops and he shakes the last pill of medicine off its container. "Look at this."  
  
Zitao gazes at the blue pill lying on Luhan's palm. "Drink." He instructs but the patient does not leave his eyes from the medicine.  
  
"It was trapped." 0420 starts. "And now it's not."  
  
Zitao wants to tell him to stop wasting his time because he still has to go home, he still has to catch Wufan awake, he still has to hear the lost 'I love you's from his mouth.  
  
"And last night, I thought everything will be better when you came because I thought you'd stay... I thought you would never leave... But you just came to make me drink this, the bitterness. The bitterness that feels like I'm swallowing my soul just the same it hurts." Luhan throws the pill and Zitao thinks, he understands.  
  
Zitao walks toward the edge of the bed and exhales, sitting beside his patient, sitting beside an existence that never should have been.  
  
"Your portmanteau?" Zitao asks.  
  
"EXO. Luhan... 0420." There's a hint of sadness in his voice that Zitao can evidently hear in his own.  
  
"Life used to be not like this."  
  
Luhan's eyes glisten for a short while, but there's still sadness in it. It's still there.  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**M** akeshift_   


  
  
  
  
  
It has always been a mystery why both hands move in clockwise. Life. Why are people mandated to exist from small vulnerable angels and turn into big monsters, becoming selfish beings that fight for survival and turn into a feeble material that will soon deteriorate six feet under the filthy, dusty crust of earth?  
  
The squeak of the cart is none more than annoying Zitao with the stupidity that he has done a few hours ago.  
  
 _"Sky? What does the sky look like?"  
  
"Expansive. Dark. Sometimes blinding. Unreachable." Zitao explained, eyes surveying the wall that suspended the clone from moving away.  
  
"Everything that's not this place..." 0420 whispered to himself, his gaze turning to Zitao where a hint of hope lighted brighter than anything else Zitao had ever seen. "The Island has its skies too, does it?"  
  
Zitao smiled bitterly to himself, nodding in sympathy. "Blue skies... Just like your eyes."  
  
"Blue? Different from this wall? Have you seen it yet?" Luhan asked like waves that kept crashing on the sands, continuous yet calm. Landing with indefinite impact.  
  
Zitao did not speak but looked at the clone in the eyes—they weren't blue, but dark ones that resembled the night, calm sky. Looking at it was like staring at a deep abyss, cold and empty—Zitao was lost. "I have."_  
  
Yifan says he'll pick him up. Fortunately, both of them are home early today and can stuff their cabinets with preserved food that will last for a month or so.  
  
Zitao’s many kinds of person. He’s also many kinds of stupid. He makes many kinds of mistakes. But he’s only one kind of vulnerable, something Huang Zitao doesn’t show to anyone, not even to his own boyfriend. So fucked up as fucked up it has been, that one clone patient has seen one of his sides; although he hasn’t exposed everything, Zitao still feels like as if he has gone naked. The long covered part of him now in bare, and it doesn’t even feel wrong at all. Not even when he looks into Yifan’s eyes and smiles like everything is normal. Smiling like he isn’t being accused of something he has never done. Smiling like things won’t explode soon.  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**E** lude_   


  
  
  
  
  
Zitao drops the bomb when the clock strikes a hundred and eighty degrees, perfect straight line for a perfectly honest confession. The night is stretching painfully slow, sympathizing with Zitao and avoiding what tomorrow has to offer.  
  
“Yixing and I,” he starts, amusing himself as he avoids to tremble.  
  
Yifan, pauses looking at him with curious eyes.  
  
“are being accused.”  
  
Yifan’s back becomes rigid, tension building up in him and Zitao’s sure he can hear the audible pounding on his chest. Painfully loud. “Accused... of what?”  
  
“Spilling confidential information.”  _And telling the truth,_  He forgets to add.  
  
The silence is tense as Yifan goes back to stack up their grocery supplies in the cabinet. “Let’s talk about it later.”  
  
Zitao’s thankful that the night has a long time to offer.  
  
Dinner is served when Yifan digs back on the topic, what Zitao has buried deep inside him for a little while.  
  
“What happened?” he asks, eyes gleaming with concern that Zitao doesn’t know whether to lie again or tell him the truth.  
  
“I don’t know.” the truth.  
  
“What?” Yifan burrows his forehead in confusion, food completely forgotten.  
  
“A patient found out that he’s a clone.” he says, takes a sip of his juice before proceeding. “And clones like them do not have the capability to process such information with the level of knowledge that they possess.”  
  
“How did he find out about it, then?”  
  
“That, I have no idea.” a lie.  
  
“When you said you and Yixing are being accused... is it possible that Yixing did it?”  
  
Blind. Yifan is too blind.  
  
“Yixing will not do it. You know that.” Yifan does not know it. “He wants me to get away from the department, but that will just lead them to more suspicions.”  
  
“Zitao, didn’t I tell you a long time ago that this job’s too dangerous for you?”  
  
Zitao laughs at him. “Isn’t being a lawyer as dangerous as what I do?”  
  
Yifan only looks at him.  
  
“We both took the dangerous path, Yifan” he says. “But worry not, I know what I’m doing”  
  
A lie.  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**F** raction_   


  
  
  
  
  
“Until when do I have to drink this thing?” the clone asks as the bitter taste of medicine engulfs his tongue.  
  
“Hmm... Till I stop giving them to you?” the busy doctor keeps jotting down stuff on his paper that the clone couldn’t really grasp a full comprehension of, so Luhan sets his glass of water on the bedside table, waiting for Dr. Huang to start talking.  
  
“Why aren’t you in the Island yet, Doctor Huang? You look perfectly fine.” Luhan surveys him from head to toe. Doctor Huang has a great shape, as far as his knowledge can reach. The doctor looks physically fit where Luhan notices the small details—his broad chest hugged tightly by his cream colored polo, his biceps flexing under the sleeves of his white lab gown and his thighs... the clone gulps as something weird stirs inside of him.  
  
“Because...” he trails off, head turning to the clone. “...I chose this job.” The doctor’s gaze softens, which makes the clone’s brows furrow in worry.  
  
“Are you lonely too?” Luhan manages to ask, and Doctor Huang opens his mouth as if to say something, but he pauses and only an exhale is heard.  
  
“I guess.” his eyes casts down and the doctor places his records on the bedside table. “It really gets extremely lonely here sometimes.”  
  
“All the time.” Luhan corrects and they share a short giggle. “You know what,”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“You’re beautiful.” Adjective. Aesthetically pleasing. Excellent.  
  
“What?” Doctor Huang’s head snaps to his side and Luhan flushes, cheeks staining red.  
  
“N-Nothing.”  
  
He’s a beautiful nothing. And it’s not even a fraction of the truth.  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**E** scape_   


  
  
  
  
  
Huang Zitao goes back to his office, a migraine threatening to emerge when he slumps down on his chair, on the other side, Zhang Yixing takes off his lab coat and hands Huang Zitao a file of folders.  
  
“I’m going to have to assign you back up there.” Yixing says and Zitao looks dumbfoundedly at him for a while.  
  
His eyebrows furrow and he looks disbelievingly at his co-worker.  
  
“Things are going worse in the department.” he exhales and directs his gaze away from Zitao.  
  
“...You’re kidding.”  
  
“No.” Yixing shakes his head and slumps on his chair, massaging his nape as he closes his eyes and avoids Zitao’s deadly stare.  
  
“This is idiotic, Yixing. You’ll raise more suspicions once you send me up there!” Zitao yells at him.  
  
“There’s no time to think, Zitao. They won’t send out immigrants until they found out who told 1106 about their identity.”  
  
Zitao closes his eyes, a hand pressing on his upper face while he tries to make a sense out of what his co-worker's trying to do. "I don't understand. There's only the two of us here and you're sending me up there just because someone told them the truth. Yixing, don't draw more suspicion towards us if you want to come clean—" Zitao stops when Yixing gives him a sad smile.  
  
The other doctor looks away when Zitao comes into a realization, stricken by fear and unable to say anything. "I always know, Zitao. And I know you love your job more than anything else in this world so I'd rather take the blame than let people find out that it was—"  
  
"No! N-No... Yixing... I am not allowing you.”  
  
“I already told them. You have to be gone after the next selection, if you don’t want to die with me.” Yixing folds his lab gown and places it on top of his table. “I know what I’m doing, Zitao. You don’t have to worry.” He leaves Zitao staring at the millions of post-it notes stuck on his little bulletin board.  
  
 _“We both took the dangerous path, Yifan” he says. “But worry not, I know what I’m doing”_  
  
Zitao feels like someone splashed a bucket of cold water on him.  
  
He goes home disgruntled, thoughts mixing here and there and anger frustrating him every second. When he opens the door to their unit, he sees no Yifan he can lean on, no Yifan he can talk to and no Yifan he used to love.  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**E** verlasting_   


  
  
  
  
  
“Until when do I have to drink this thing?” the clone asks as the bitter taste of medicine engulfs his tongue.  
  
“Till you get selected and finally set foot on the Island.” he answers and waits for his last patient to talk. He meets an empty bottle of medicine handed towards his direction, eyeing the bottle weirdly and taking it with a little hesitation.  
  
“Your answer’s not the same as the last time.” 0420 casts a gloom of sadness on his face, eyes avoiding the doctor.  
  
“I...I’m sorry?” Zitao suddenly feels suffocated in the room. The last patient turns away from him and Zitao heaves a sigh, cursing to himself as he exits the room and deeply immerses himself in the silence of the hallways for the last time.  
  
He reaches the office just in time Yixing finishes packing his stuff, sadness gleaming in his eyes.  
  
"Yixing, we do not have to do this," he explains as soon as he nears the table, approaching Yixing who's smiling sadly at him. "You love this job as much as I do."  
  
"I don't want to die with you, Huang. I value my life more than my job, and besides, you'll still have fun up there. I just wish the both of us will be replaced by better liars." He whispers the last two words which earns a giggle from Zitao.  
  
"Better liars last longer in this industry."  
  
Yixing smiles widely at him and for the last time he says, “Everlasting.”  
  
  
  
  
  


 

_**L** eave_   


  
  
  
  
  
“You’re home early?” Zitao pauses when Yifan’s voice fills the living room, pausing from taking his coat off.  
  
“Yeah...” Zitao smiles when Yifan emerges.  
  
Yifan stops when he sees Zitao walking towards him, hesitation glowing apparent in his lover's eyes. But Yifan smiles widely at him, encouraging him to go on and so he does, hugging Yifan which makes it awkward between the two of them. Zitao doesn't let go and nuzzles his nose on Yifan's neck.  
  
"What's the occasion?" Yifan laughs and he lifts his arm, hands pressing on his boyfriend's back.  
  
"The occasion is us." Zitao whispers, breath tingling the lawyer's neck. "I told you I'd do the right thing, didn't I?" He pulls away and Yifan tightens his arms on his waist.  
  
"You finally left?" Relief can be seen in his eyes that flushes Zitao's ego down the drain.  
  
Zitao says yes by the form of a kiss.  
  
 _Better liars last longer in this world._  
  
  
  
Luhan often thinks how to become like Zitao. A doctor who gets to roam around the dorm everytime, know about what he's been giving Luhan and the other 'patients', most of all, Dr. Huang gets to live his life, Luhan thinks. And for the fourteen hours Luhan has been awake every single day, everything that Zitao does and Zitao has are the things Luhan thinks about. Curiosity eats his body and mind like a starving monster, its fangs biting and crushing his patience into knowing  _more, more, more_. Craving for it like a  _drug, drug, drug_. He wants to get intoxicated by it like an alcohol, and he's not going to stop himself until he's drunk from the facts.  
  
The door opens and Luhan sits straight, like a good dog patiently waiting for his master. His smile is already propped on his face only to fall back when a different face welcomes him. "Hello. My name's Kim Junmyeon. I'll be looking after you from now on."  
  
Something uncomfortable falls heavily on Luhan's stomach. "Where's Dr. Huang?" He asks, voice shaking.  
  
"Sorry, Dr. Huang has gone off to the Island. And I'll be helping you to go there as soon as possible." The new doctor gives him a friendly smile. The clone can't help but to smile back.  
  
He should be happy for the Doctor because his misery has finally ended. He should be happy because Zitao can see the skies again. He should be happy for him because he has finally escaped the loneliness in this place. "When I go to the Island, can I still find Dr. Huang there?"  
  
"The Island's a big place," Kim Junmyeon pauses as he hands two pieces of pills on Luhan's hand.  _Why is he giving me so much?_  before Luhan can ask him, the doctor continues, "but I'm sure you can find Dr. Huang there."  
  
Something weird settles in Luhan's stomach. There's something in this new doctor's smile that doesn't feel real. Something about his words that doesn't quite fit in the world that he has created along with Zitao. There's something about him that is so.... deceiving.  
  
  
  
"Hello." Zitao greets the new doctor writing furiously on his record book. "I'm here to collect my stuff. I'm transferring them up."  
  
The doctor stops writing and looks up, his cheeks flushes but he immediately greets Zitao back. "Oh, hi! Hi! Please take a seat!" A guy with a huge set of eyes greets him warmly, offering him the seat that was formerly Yixing's. With the thought of his co-worker, Zitao's chest tightens, nostalgia kicking him straight up where it hurts.  
  
"I see you're doing well." He says as soon as he sits down.  
  
"I'm still studying and groping up on anything to be able to work well. But, thanks!" The doctor cheerfully says and extends out his arm. "The name's Do Kyungsoo!"  
  
"Nice to meet you! I'm Huang Zitao. And I'm in the neurosurgical department now." Zitao takes his hand, feeling a shaky and sweating hand grip his. "If you need help with stuff, you can always ring me there."  
  
"I guess there's only one thing I need help with." Kyungsoo smiles.  
  
"I don't think I can help you with that." Zitao's grin falls. "Because that's the reason why I quit the job in the first place." His laugh that comes after seems so... deceiving.  
  
Kyungsoo laughs along with him. "Too bad you didn't meet Junmyeon—the current head, he's just out doing the rounds."  
  
"Hmmm... The new head's excited, huh?" He says cocking his head to the right. "It's a little too early, I usually start my rounds at the last hour of the day."  
  
"Junmyeon is a little excited over seeing the clones. And possibly being friends with them."  
  
"Well, I've never had any friends in the do—" Zitao pauses when a voice fills his mind.  
  
 _'You know what?'  
  
'Hmm?'  
  
'You're beautiful.'_  
  
"The head did say they can be a little hard to talk to. I anticipate that in the future."  
  
"S-some..." he trails off. What is its portmanteau again? 0410? 0412? Zitao swears he easily forgets, but he did have a little fun in the dorms, didn't he? "Some talk a lot. It won't be as boring as you think it is."  
  
"I see, anyway, your boxes are in the storage room. Junmyeon helped me move them a while ago. Come on, let me help you get them."

 

 

 

 

 

_**B** estial_

  
  
  
It's a mystery how Luhan craves for something real in the past thousands of days since Junmyeon has started visiting him, replacing Zitao. It's normal, he says to himself, that the clock ticks and it leaves him behind while he just waits for a hand to grip him back to the current time and pull him from being stuck.  
  
"Meds time!" Dr. Kim announces as soon as he enters his room.  
  
Luhan smiles weakly at him then nods.  
  
Junmyeon hands him three round tablets this time, Luhan immediately takes them, tasting like iron being melted on his tongue.  
  
"You know, 0420, you're the most obedient patient that I take care of here." Junmyeon praises as soon as Luhan finishes swallowing all of his medicines. "And I sense something good awaits you."  
  
Luhan's hand almost slips from the glass of water. "Am I...?" Incoherence swallows his brain, filling it with  _'You can finally see Zitao again.'_  
  
Finally.  
  
The clone smiles genuinely at the doctor for the first time he has seen him enter the room exactly three thousand two hundred and fifty seven days ago.  
  
  
  
"Doctor Huang?" A shaky voice greets Zitao when he lifts the phone up.  
  
"Speaking." He says, eyes and hands busy on the amount of paperworks he's sorting out.  
  
Being a neurosurgeon, Zitao has concluded, is way better than boring himself a hundred meters down the basement while talking to lifeless but breathing duplicate of human beings. He has never heard of Yixing again but he has learned to accept, move on and avoid all of the pending questions concerning them leaving the underground department. Junmyeon and Kyungsoo,who happened to be Yixing and Zitao's replacement respected it by not letting curiosity bite their tongues into saying anything. His officemates seem to know how to shut their mouths too, they don’t even bother asking what is  _under_  the hospital.  
  
“This is Doctor Do!” the underground doctor nervously laughs.  
  
“Yes? Do you need any help?”  
  
“Well, uh... Not really... But I found a note in one of your drawers, and it’s written in symbolic morse.”  
  
Zitao drops the phone.  
  
  
  
When the door to his room opens, Luhan’s back stiffens and he steadies his arms on his side, Dr. Kim Junmyeon is nowhere to be seen but a shorter guy wearing the same long white cloak enters, letters he can't read embossed on a gold plate stapled on his left chest.  
  
"Today's your lucky day." The doctor says, smiling fakely at him. "EXO Luhan 0420." The way he says Luhan's portmanteau feels like a death sentence his nervousness is suddenly arising in his chest. He tries to calm himself by holding on to the iron bracelet where his portmanteau is etched, feeling the warmness of it makes his heart beat's pace slower.  
  
"Y-Yes." He says, raising his hand. "Me. That's me."  
  
"Come with me. I'll be bringing you to the Island along with the other lucky migrators." He extends out his hand, and Luhan counts until three before taking the doctor's hand and standing from his bed. "My name's Doctor Do Kyungsoo, by the way."  
  
  
  
Zitao opens the door to his office, an on-call room that has a study table propped on the left side, where all of his unfinished paperworks lie. He sits on the chair and rings his department, asking an intern to fetch him a brewed coffee ‘with two sprinkles of cinnamon, please’ and the daily newspaper that Minseok—the newest intern—must have devoured with his lazy ass.  
  
Minseok comes in a few minutes later, a mug of hot coffee and folded newspaper propped in between his arm, a lazy smile pasted on his face.  
  
“Goodmorning, Doctor.” the intern greets him, placing the coffee and newspaper on his table. “I heard the undergrounds are going up today, Doctor Do asked for your presence a while ago. You know, he’s the only one who calls in the department so...”  
  
“Did he tell you why?” he says, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. Bless cinnamon.  
  
“He told me he’ll be handing you a letter from Doctor Zhang. Who’s this guy? A friend?”  
  
“Minseok, do you know what’s in the basement?” he asks, motioning Minseok to sit in front of him and the intern obeys, curious brows furrowing.  
  
“I heard it’s where they put mentally ill patients. I don’t know, I’ve only been here two months after you, so I haven’t heard that much.”  
  
“Everyone else thinks it’s a mental institute down there?” Zitao asks, taking more sips of coffee that he thinks he  _badly_  needs for wherever this conversation will lead to.  
  
“A senior in my university was able to go there a few years ago and he told us that the patients down there are really weird, they were talking about paradises and islands—really insane, he told us.” Minseok takes his mug from his hand and sips, earning Zitao’s glare. “You know that the policy up here restricts us from talking about the underground, right?”  
  
Zitao’s back shoots up straight, he has read his renewed contract, and none of it stated that he is prohibited to talk about the underground. “Y-Yeah... Right.”  
  
“I really want to finish a year here without getting any violation marks.” Minseok jokingly says, reaching to get Zitao’s cup that gets snatched away by the doctor. “Anyway, you haven’t told me who Doctor Zhang is.”  
  
“He used to work with me.” Zitao answers, his tone not engaging any more questions.  
  
“I see. Doctor Do, third floor, okay?” Minseok notes to him, taking one last sip on his coffee before dashing away from the on-call room.  
  
Zitao shakes his head, laughing to himself as he takes a sip from his half-consumed mug and blaming Minseok for it. He takes the newspaper on his table then, brows furrowing and the pace of his heartbeat suddenly increasing when the headline of the sports news welcomes him: “ _Soccer player Lu Han rushed to the hospital after suffering from heart attack during the second match of National League Tournament_ ”. Beside the article is a huge image of a smiling guy, brown orbs and honey brown hair; an extremely familiar face striking Zitao’s mind.  
  
 _EXO Luhan 0420_.  
  
  
  
  
  


  
_**E** ccedentesiast_   


  
  
  
It’s a weird feeling, Luhan concludes, the anxiety of finally leaving a room he’s been trapped in ever since he woke up from a horrible dream, along with the excitement creeping up his nerves with the thought of finally, after thousands of sleeps and hundreds of dreams and tenths of frustrations and the ones of the guy he wants to see once again. Finally. He's going to the Island.  
  
The place outside his room is a threshold, endless hallways he and the other ‘patients’—as what Doctor Do Kyungsoo calls them—explore that makes his feet ache from the long walk.  
  
“This is a lift, we all need to get in it to reach the exit.” The doctor pauses in front of a closed metallic door which suddenly slides open, presenting a small room that can suffocate anyone; the space even smaller than his own room.  
  
They all enter the room, stuffing all seven of them inside. Luhan panics a little when the door slides close, mind suddenly booming alarmed and his eyes surveys the other patients, noticing that they are reacting the same way as he does, worried of what is currently happening and what is about to happen to them.  
  
The doctor pushes a button that he didn’t notice was attached to the wall, then the room moves. Luhan reaches for a metal handle to hold on to while the room is moving, feeling his organs mixing up inside his stomach.  
  
“W-What’s happening?” a trembling voice of a patient from the SHINee dorms asks—his portmanteau is glowing, written in crimson on his metal wrist band.  
  
“It’s the lift getting up. Don’t worry, it’s not going to explode or anything.” Doctor Do Kyungsoo laughs to himself, feeling the uneasiness of the patients inside the ‘lift’.  
  
A sound resonates when the movement stops and the door opens, relief flooding the patient’s chests. They awkwardly stand inside for a second or two before the doctor clears his throat.  
  
“You guys can step out now.” He smiles at them, and the patients walk out of the terrifying ‘lift’.  
  
Luhan steps out before the Doctor does, and everyone watches in awe as the lift rings once again, and closes itself.  
  
"That's terrifyingly amazing." Someone says in front.  
  
Luhan notices Dr. Do Kyungsoo laughing to himself again.  
  
"What's funny?" Luhan whispers to himself, but the doctor is able to hear it, flushing red as he looks at the clone and ceasing his laughter.  
  
"Okay. Now, follow me." The doctor pulls them to another deserted hallway. But the hallways this time is painted peach light, a warmer hue than in comparison to what they have been venturing in a while ago.  
  
"Can all of you please form a single line?" The doctor asks and everyone complies, Luhan is the last to catch on things, making him the one to be in the last of the line. Luhan pouts to himself and wonders how they will go to the island. Will they be in for a transportation? Will they teleport to get there? Will it be the island already once Doctor Do Kyungsoo opens the door? There are a million question racing in his mind, begging to be answered.  
  
"SHINee Kibum 0923?" The doctor asks, starting a roll call.  
  
The guy raises his hand, eyes meeting the doctor's. Do Kyungsoo reads the embedded name on his wrist band and proceeds to saying, "You may come in." The doctor opens the door before them, revealing a door with just a blue operating curtain separating what is inside the room.  
  
The clone hesitates for a second, but he takes a deep breathe, smiling to himself after thanking the doctor and enters the room, past the curtains, past anyone will see.  
  
The next that Doctor Kyungsoo calls is a breeder from the SNSD dorms, tears of happiness streaming down her face as she gives the doctor her farewell. When she enters the room, Kyungsoo waits a few moments—fifteen seconds, Luhan says to himself—before calling the next patient.  
  
Luhan feels like something's wrong, but he supposes it's just him having different thoughts on going to the Island. He may have been a little adventurous and imaginative. Maybe it's just disappointment kicking on his side of the brain.  
  
His portmanteau got called last, and he suddenly notices that he's the only one remaining, standing in front of the doctor.  
  
"EXO Luhan 0420" Doctor Do Kyungsoo repeats his portmanteau, eyeing him weirdly.  
  
"I—" Luhan raises his hand, biting on his lower lip to repress himself from talking more.  
  
The doctor looks at his wrist band, reading it to double check then smiles at him, "You may go inside now."  
  
Luhan stands frozen in his place.  
  
"Is there anything wrong?"  
  
Luhan bites harder on his lower lip, he wants to feel himself bleeding, he wants to taste the iron on his tongue, he wants to know the feeling of hurting. He needs to know if this is real.  
  
"Uhm... 0420?" The doctor asks, face plastered with worry.  
  
"I'm sorry." There, he finally says it.  
  
"Wha—"  
  
"I don't think I'm ready."  
  
Doctor Do Kyungsoo stares at him in horror, his eyes widening like plates about to crack. "E-EXO Luhan 0420, how... how...?"  
  
Luhan closes his eyes, feeling his lower lip split in between the bones of his upper teeth, and crimson liquid creeps slowly on his tongue. Luhan feels weird though, because he knows that blood tastes like metal. Like iron. It tastes like that in his dreams. It tastes real, but right now, with Kyungsoo looking at him with worry, with doubts clouding his mind like the strongest storm about to hit the lands, he runs his tongue and savors the blood on his lip. Rubber.  
  
He runs.  
  
  
  
  
  


  
_**A** live_   


  
  
  
Zitao admits it's hard to memorize the entire hospital, but honestly it's because he just has not gotten over the basement yet—he knows every corner of the basement, every number of doors in each hallways, every count of every single step it takes in between every door. Everything is etched to his mind like a molded cement.  
  
The hospital has five points; the A-wing, which is in the north, the B-wing located at the east, the C-wing that stands at the center of each wing, D-wing on the west of the center and the E-wing that operates in the South, the place where most Doctors are free to roam around, it's the place where operating and on-call rooms are located.  
  
Zitao takes his time to wander, reading every plate pasted on the doors in the hallways. He hears loud tapping of feet against the tiled floor but he chooses to neglect it, instead continuing to walk slowly through the hallway, until he hears his name from a shaking voice.  
  
"Dr. Huang?"  
  
Zitao turns to see a patient in a white robe, honey brown hair messed up like he just woke up from a horrible nightmare, brown orbs illuminating with a radiant glow that feigns a dying christmas light.  
  
"I-I thought you were—"  
  
Zitao marches towards the clone, a leap taking two or three step at once. He grips the clone's arm and pulls him away from the side where the crowd is, venturing back to his on-call room.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Zitao asks in a hushed, rigid voice.  
  
"The-The Island..." the clone says, trampling on his walk because he cannot keep up with Zitao's pace.  
  
"Do you know that they'll kill you once they see you here?" He hisses, turning left after climbing four floors and storming inside the very first door he sees. Zitao locks the door and leans on it, closing his eyes as he takes equal deep breathe.  
  
"I thought you were already in the Island?" Luhan asks, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.  
  
Zitao orders him to sit on the bed, and the clone obeys, sitting at the edge like he can run away anytime. Zitao sits beside him and runs a hand on his face, why, of all people, does he have to run into a wandering clone in a place full of harmful people.  
  
He looks at the clone and takes another deep breathe to calm himself, as well buy enough time to contemplate whether he should tell the truth  _again_.  
  
"Give me your wrist with the band." He says handing out his palm and Luhan does, placing his wrist on top of Zitao's grip. Zitao presses the two buttons on the side of the band, clicking it in three long pushes before a sound clicks, the metal band detaching itself from Luhan's skin and his portmanteau suddenly blurring to black.  
  
"What did you do? What happened?" Luhan asks, inspecting his naked wrist and shaking it, feeling something weird with the absence of the band.  
  
"This is called a wrist tag, a tracking device for patients like you and it only works when it encloses over a wrist, it take its energy from the pulse." Zitao explains, standing to put the wrist tag inside the first drawer of his study table. "It counts the beating of your heart, and when it turns off, it means you're dead."  
  
"But I'm not dead." Luhan reasons, eyebrows furrowing.  
  
"That's the point." Zitao says. "You made a big mistake running here. And once they see you, they will kill and replace you."  
  
"Huh? I don't understand. Why would they want me dead? I was supposed to go to the Island today, but I ran away... because I'm not ready. A-And it was a great choice because I saw you fina—"  
  
"You what?" Zitao cuts him off. "You were supposed to go to the island?"  
  
A slow nod.  
  
"Oh dear god." Zitao exclaims and his head pops up when he remembers something. "Your initial. Your initial is here."  
  
"I... What are you talking about?"  
  
Zitao takes the newspaper lying still on his study table and gives it to Luhan. The clone looks at the paper and back to Zitao, apathy unable to be hidden in his expression.  
  
"Wait here." Zitao says and goes in the comfort room, a small place at the corner of the room. He takes the compact mirror he sees and strides towards the clone, shoving the mirror to his face.  
  
Luhan's jaw hangs wide open, as well as his eyes, taking the mirror from Zitao's hand he stares in awe at what he sees. "Is this... Is this... my reflection?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It looks... it looks like this guy on the paper." Luhan looks up to him, amusement and confusion mixing up. It must be hard, Zitao thinks, for someone with only twenty thousand neurons in his brain to process such information. But there's something special about this clone.  
  
Oh, what a shame for him not to think about it in the past, how the clone can always remember him when they do not have any capacity to, when the clone makes deep thoughts and shares it aloud. How foolish of Zitao not to give a care.  
  
"That's because," A deep inhale of breath. "That's you."  
  
"..."  
  
"How should I explain it, okay, so... Have you ever wondered why you were kept in a room, alone, for months, and just being fed food and vitamins every day?"  
  
"Because we're supposed to be healthy in order to migrate in the Island."  
  
"That was a lie."  
  
Luhan furrows his brows, but doesn't interrupt him.  
  
"You were kept because, yes, the organization wants you to be healthy and well. But it isn't to put you in a Paradise. It's to... get something off you, when your initial needs it already."  
  
"What do you mean off me?"  
  
"You're a type of an insurance."  
  
"An insurance?" Luhan repeats, foreign words feeling strange rolling off his tongue.  
  
"You're a clone."  
  
"I... I... I don't understand?"  
  
"A clone is an imitation of a real human being, like me, so if ever something bad happens to me, I can get a replacement from you. Your organs, your eyes, your skin, your blood, your everything. Once I lose something, I can replace it by getting it from you." Zitao explains. He knows this isn't a good explanation, but he needs to slow it down for the clone to understand.  
  
"What about the Island?" He asks, hope breaking right in front of his eyes, dreams crushing right within his grasp.  
  
"There's no such thing as the Island." Zitao confesses. "It's an instrument to make clones like you believe that something will fruit out of jailing you under the ground. To make you more... enthusiastic. And when it's time for someone to go to the Island, it means only one thing."  
  
"...Death." Luhan says, his grimace darking his beautiful face.  
  
"Yes. And your initial, this guy," Zitao points the photo on the newspaper. "He's in here. Probably in Hallway 812, that's where they keep patients like him here."  
  
"What happened to him?" Luhan asks, the information amazingly getting absorbed too swiftly. Zitao can't help but get amazed.  
  
"He's fine, but he's waiting for the heart.  _Your heart._  They should be transferring your heart to him, but you ran away so I guess they will resort to finding a donor." Zitao says. "Unless they make a search for you, which i doubt, isn't impossible."  
  
"They will kill me..." the clone whispers to himself. "What should I do then?"  
  
"I have no idea, if they find out that I'm with you, you won't be the only one dead tonight." The thought of leaving Yifan scares Zitao the most, more than anything else in this world.  
  
"If I... go back to them, what will happen?"  
  
"They'll kill you for sure, take your heart and transfer it to your initial."  
  
The phone rings, interrupting their talk and Zitao lifts a finger on his lips, motioning for Luhan not to make any noise. Zitao picks up the phone, eyes not leaving Luhan who's surveying the newspaper like a foreign material.  
  
"Doctor Huang?"  
  
"Yes, Minseok?"  
  
A pause.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Doctor Do Kyungsoo told me there was an emergency so he couldn't meet up with you today." Zitao hums in acknowledgement, and Minseok adds. "Also, patients. Your break's almost over."  
  
"Ah yes, yes. I took a short nap, sorry. I'll be there in a few minutes. Thanks." He shuts the phone down and Zitao takes one last look at Luhan "You. Don't get out of this room. Lock the door and don't let anyone enter."  
  
"But... you?" Luhan asks, alarmed and suddenly standing from sitting on the bed.  
  
"I'll be doing my job, and don't open the door unless you hear two abrupt knocks, a pause and another three. Got it?"  
  
Luhan nods, repeating what Zitao has said. "Two knocks. Pause. Another three."  
  
"I have to go now. Stay here okay?"  
  
Luhan walks towards Zitao who's arranging his lab coat, hugging the doctor from behind. Zitao stiffens, looking down at Luhan's arms around his waist.  
  
"What...?"  
  
"Thank you." Luhan leans on Zitao, his nose touching the doctor's back neck and Zitao admits it's a little warm, his breath ghosting on his nape and Luhan buries his head there, just perfectly.  
  
"Uhm," Zitao clears his throat. "—late for work." He says, prying away Luhan's arms around him and heads to the door. He gives Luhan one last look and the clone only smiles at him, that innocent, innocent smile and Zitao looks away. Getting out of the room.  
  
  
  
A stab of pain. It's what Luhan can only get from all of the revelations that Zitao told him.  
  
He isn't a real human.  
  
Living in a lie for all of his life under this building, inside his room, Luhan feels like an absolute fool. He feels like he was a helpless, useless instrument played by everyone else. And Zitao, oh how he love Zitao for trusting and telling him the truth. Zitao who has always been the most genuine of them all, Zitao whose smiles do not deceive, whose sadness never left his deranged soul.  
  
Luhan stands from the bed he's sitting on and goes to Zitao's study table, mountains of papers and ink prints staining them. He sees the container where Zitao hid his wrist band, he opens it and finds the metal tag lying lifelessly, where his portmanteau lay now a complete black space.  
  
" _Hallway 812_."  
  
He whispers to himself, repeating until the numbers etch themselves on his brain.  
  
On the wall of the room is posted a huge framed map of the hospital, it takes Luhan a few minutes to grasp its content, find his current location, memorize what needs to be memorized and he's off to go.  
  
  
  
Luhan is panting the moment he reaches the eighth floor, pausing a bit to recall what he has memorized. Two hallways from the fire exit, one straight turn and a left turn. He reaches Hallway 812 with a little difficulty while he is able to avoid the people wearing the same stuff Zitao does, white long lab coats with masks on their faces.  
  
The first door in the hallway has a plate nailed on it, and Luhan's heartbeat raced, recognizing a part of his portmanteau etched on the plate. He places his hand on the knob, silently turning it and opening the door. Immaculate white walls welcome him, reminding him of his former room. On the left corner is a bed with a sleeping person lying on it, an IV tube connected to his hand, yellow liquid slowly flowing in it.  
  
Luhan closes the door silently and slowly walks up to the sleeping body of himself. "Is this... my Initial?" He whispers to himself. His grip tightens on the metal tag in his palm, pulling out a smile he isn't able to suppress.  
  
"Beautiful..." Luhan says to the sleeping patient, all features mimicking his. "Why do you have to be the real one?" He says, smile falling into a frown.  
  
Frustration. Luhan wants to scream, to cry in front of the sleeping copy of him, to choke it awake.  
  
"Why must you get the freedom I've always been deprived of?" His innocent face is a deceiving demon inside a sleeping body. It slaughters the clone's existence to insanity by just looking at it.  
  
Despair. Luhan wants to shout, to weep for not being able to have a genuine something, he wants to kill this person.  
  
"But, no..." he closes his eyes, whispering to himself that he should do what is right. Obey to what his brain thinks is right. "I don't wanna see you suffering. I don't..."  
  
The clone runs a hand on genuine brown locks, they're softer than his, like he's holding clouds that do not exist.  
  
On Luhan's other hand is the wrist tag, he takes the Initial's hand, putting the metal band around his wrist and smiling as the portmanteau slowly rises.  
  
"There..." a smile of relief. "They will take care of you down there, that's for sure."  
  
He touches the sleeping face of his Initial, a gentle hand caressing soft, plump cheeks. He bends down a little then, sending one last kiss on its forehead before he gets out of the room.  
  
The patient lying on the bed stirs, eyes opening just right after the door of his room clicks to a lock.  
  
  
  
Kyungsoo slumps down on his chair, closing his eyes as he crumples his hand into a fist, imagining himself dead by the end of the day, his body found floating by the side of a river, or a creek, or if possible a lake far from this place. So that no one will recognize him, so no one will know the stupidity he has done.  
  
Knowing that the clones do not have a capacity to doubt, Kyungsoo has been awe-stricken to fully comprehend the little conversation he has with 0420 before it ran away from him. It has taken him half an hour to call the emergency center underground, and when they tried to monitor the clone, he has already taken off his wrist tag. Alert yellow level has been raised, meaning of medium priority. Once it becomes red, Kyungsoo has a feeling he'd be either dead or super dead. Now a few hours have gone ever since that incident, and Kyungsoo prays to all the angels from above that his existence may be spared.  
  
The 5g rings and Kyungsoo immediately runs toward it, seeing a face appearing on the space before him.  
  
"Doctor Do Kyungsoo, speaking."  
  
"Doctor, the wrist tag has just been activated. We have located it in this hospital, E-Wing, Hallway 812. Eighth floor. Room A."  
  
"Thank you." He says and ends the call. "Oh, thank God. Thank fucking God." He says to himself as he slumps back down on the chair.  
  
  
  
  
  


  
_**U** nivalent_   


  
  
  
"Oh my." Luhan fails to hide the amusement on his face. "Where are we?"  
  
"This is called a car." Zitao says, leaning forward Luhan to get the seatbelt on the side, setting the instrument properly on his body as the clone watches him with awe.  
  
"A car is stuffier than my room. It's scary here, but it's beautiful."  
  
Zitao laughs at him and thinks how the clone acts like a child, he can't help but admit that he's  _hella_  cute.  
  
"A car is something we use for transportation. I use this everyday to go to my house."  
  
"You have a house?" Widening like saucers, Zitao avoids getting a contact from his eyes. Here's a little secret Zitao has kept inside him: the clone eyes scare him, fake light illuminating off their irises, it's creepy.  
  
"Every single person who walks on this planet has a house. It's a physiological need, Luhan."  
  
The question and answer hasn't stopped until Zitao reaches his apartment.  
  
"Did it break?" Luhan asks when the car comes to a halt.  
  
"No. We're here."  
  
Zitao's apartment is far from what Luhan dreamed about the Island, it isn't cozy, but it isn't bad as well.  
  
"This is your house?" Luhan asks, still unsure why reality never met his expectations. "It looks..."  
  
"Looks what?"  
  
"...like my room." Zitao laughs at the clone, confusing it even more.  
  
"Why are people always in an enclosed space? Why can't we live under the skies? Didn't you say they were wide? Stretched?" He looks like a kid whose candy got stolen by a bully and Zitao wants to pinch his cheeks.  
  
"I don't really have any idea how to explain human stuff to you so, let me just fix things first. Sit on the sofa, watch TV or something, just stop asking me questions." Zitao hands him the remote after turning the television on, startling Luhan whose amusement never fades off and heads to his own room to change.  
  
In his room is a connecting door to the guest room, where Yifan's parents would stay every time they visit from Canada. He fixes the room, changing the pillow cases and the blanket. The moment he finishes setting up the bed, he's already sweating like crazy, like he just ran from a marathon.  
  
Looking satisfied, Zitao goes back to the living room, only to find the Television playing without any audience watching it. A frown is supposed to form but he hears sounds from the kitchen, so he heads towards it, finding Luhan with an opened bottle on the table and mothballs on his palm.  
  
"What the hell are you doing with this thing?" Zitao rushes towards him, snatching the poison away from the clone. "This is a poison! Why would you eat this? Do you want to kill yourself?"  
  
"I thought it was my medicine." Luhan casts his eyes down, biting on his lower lip for getting scolded.  
  
"This isn't your medicine, okay!? And..." a deep inhale, Zitao tries to calm himself. "You're already here with me, you don't have to live like you did down in the basement. You'll have no more of these medicines. You're already free, Luhan."  
  
"Really?"  
  
Zitao nods.  
  
Luhan smiles widely at him, but immediately changes when he remembers something. "Oh, earlier I saw my Ini—"  
  
"Is that Yifan?" Zitao suddenly mutters, movements heard by the door. He sets the mothballs aside, and runs to his boyfriend to welcome him home.  
  
"Who...?" the clone whispers to himself, forehead turning into folds.  
  
Yifan stands by the door then, taking off his coat and loosening his tie. "Hey" he says when Zitao approaches him.  
  
"Welcome home. Have you eaten dinner yet?" Zitao asks, taking Yifan's coat from his hand.  
  
Yifan's arm snakes around Zitao's waist suddenly, pulling him close, he presses himself on his boyfriend, smirking at him.  
  
"I want someone else for dinner."  
  
Zitao chuckles and Yifan presses a kiss on his lips, just a short one to greet him a nice evening. But dinner sounds good, and Zitao's lips are addicting, intoxicating and purely sinful. Yifan opts for a deeper kiss, lips pushing through between those set of teeth.  
  
Zitao elicits a moan, about to push Yifan away but the latter pulls him tighter,air restricted to go between them.  
  
"Dr. Huang.... Who...?"  
  
With the clone's voice, Yifan suddenly pulls away, startled and eyes widening.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
  
  
  
  


  
_**T** ruth_   


  
  
  
"I thought you already transferred, Zitao. What the hell is the meaning of this?" Yifan is scary. He's taller than Zitao and his shoulders are broad, like the monsters in Luhan's dreams.  
  
"I don't want him dead, Yifan please understand." Zitao is pleading, frowned brows making him look a decade older. "They'll kill him. He's different from them, he's more intelligent. He can live a normal life—"  
  
"By putting your job on risk? Zitao, you've always been so stubborn about this. I know you love your former job, but can't you just get over from it and bring that clone back to where it belongs!"  
  
They're screaming at each other now, their voices filling Luhan's ears with anger.  
  
"No, Yifan, listen! Listen..." Zitao's hand reaches for Yifan's, and he takes it, enclosing his palm on Yifan's balled fists,only for the older to pull them away. And Luhan notices the way Zitao winces, the way he tries to hide the pain in his eyes. "He may be a clone... But he's alive too. He has a right to live."  
  
"That's quite ironic. Knowing that their reason for living is to help whoever funded them live longer, isn't it?" His voice is so cold Luhan can feel the chill seeping through his clothes. Through his soul.  
  
"Yifan please, I know what I'm doing—"  
  
"I'm giving you until tomorrow." Yifan says and at that Zitao slumps down on the floor. Yifan's eyes remain fixated on the wall before him. "If you do not bring him back tomorrow, I will call them myself."  
  
"You don't want me killed, do you?" Zitao's eyes widens, once the organization finds out that he told Luhan everything and kidnapped him, he'll be dead. Literally.  
  
  
  
Zitao is facing Yifan's back, most of the time, he admits he misses tracing his fingers on it so much, he misses sending kisses on it, he misses creating painful red scratches on it. He thought when he finally transferred, the wall between them is going to crumble down, like an armored titan slamming on it, breaking it apart. But it appears that the more he tries to do what he thinks is right, the thicker the wall between them becomes. There are still holes on them, but the other end is so far away that when Zitao tries to peek all he sees is a blurred image of yesterday.  
  
"I... I want to create breakfast for you tomorrow. I hope you can eat with me. Just a little celebration for my birthday..."  
  
Zitao has never lost any hope though, he is positive that he cannot live without Yifan. He loves him too much. Too much is the truth.  
  
  
  
  
  


  
_**I** ncandescence_   


  
  
  
Zitao gets a dream.  
  
Yifan apologizes and he holds Zitao. He holds Zitao like he's holding on his dear life. He holds Zitao like there’s nothing else as precious and as beautiful in this world like him. Zitao gets a dream.  
  
Consciousness strikes him and he smiles at the feeling of lips weighing on his own. It feels different, a lot softer, maybe because he has just woken up—not all of his senses has come back to him yet. None yet too vivid.  
  
Soft hands caresses his face and Zitao nuzzles into the touch, moaning softly. The lips comes back kissing his lips, and Zitao slowly opens his eyes only to roughly pull away.  
  
“Luhan!”  
  
The clone is sent on the ground, rubbing his ass as he whispers to himself. “That hurts...”  
  
“What do you think you were doing?” Zitao hisses, fingers clawing on his lips protectively.  
  
“I was just doing what Yifan did to you!” the pale guy defenses, standing from the floor and sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
“He— what...?”  
  
“Well I was opening the door when I saw him attaching his head on yours. I guess it’s a wake up greeting that he likes doing since he kept on attaching his lips on yours everytime he sees you. It’s really cute so I decided to do it too—”  
  
“Luhan...” he cuts the clone off, whose mouth seems not to have any filter during the morning. “It’s not an attachment of lips, it’s called kissing. It’s something only lovers do, and it isn’t a greeting. It’s... an act of love.” he explains and gets up from his bed, not bothering to fix the disheveled blanket and pillows.  
  
“Well... he’s watching the box. Outside. I think he’s waiting for you.”  
  
“What box?”  
  
“The one you activated yesterday, with the noises and people inside.”  
  
Zitao laughs at him and heads toward the door, “You’re a funny guy. You should help me cook breakfast.”  
  
“Breakfast?” Luhan is, indeed, a very funny one.  
  
  
  
“Am I forgiven?” Zitao smiles at Yifan, facing the  _’breakfast’_  he has prepared.  
  
“Zitao, you know how much I love you.” Yifan whispers, a hand extending on the table to reach his. “I’m so sorry for being a dick. But please, please please please know that I just act according to what I think will be good for you. I care about you so much and I have no idea what I am going to do without you.” a tight hold.  
  
“I understand.”  
  
“Happy Birthday.”  
  
Something inside Luhan stirs badly.  
  
"The soup's getting hot." Luhan says.  
  
  
  
It's a blur, how Luhan just stand watching Yifan cough and vomit blood out. Crimson liquid staining the table, the plate and the chair, ruining Zitao's beautiful pyjamas. It's a mess, the way Zitao screams for help and the way he panics, hands not calming and eyeballs refusing not to roll every direction. It's beautiful with how tears stain his cheeks as he struggle to punch on his phone. And when Yifan lies on the floor, it takes Zitao a few minutes to process what has transpired. Zitao bends towards his lover's lying body and checks for any signs of life. There is none.  
  
  
  
  
  


  
_**F** racture_   


  
  
  
"Don't blame yourself for his death, Zitao." Luhan runs a slow calming hand on his back, trying to cease the tears he fails to hide.  
  
"The autopsy shows that he has been food poisoned, and I'm the only one who touched that food. I cooked everything, I'm the one who killed him. I killed... Yifan." His voice is hoarse from crying, tears streaming down his beautiful golden tanned face.  
  
"You didn't kill Yifan. You do not want this to happen, okay? You didn't kill him." Luhan rests his chin on Zitao's shoulder, his hug on his waist tightening.  _I did._  
  
  
  
His initial has been easy, and Luhan thought he would have a hard time with Yifan. But it isn't as hard as counting from one to three. A second of happiness eventually leading to gloom. Luhan knows Zitao needs him now more than ever, needs his soothing hushes, his hugs and caresses, his company. His love.  
  
"Eat a little." Luhan tells him, a bowl of ramen in his hands.  
  
"You know what? I... I used to think I'll die once Yifan leaves me. I—I don't think I can now, I mean... Luhan... I'm so scared of death..." Luhan hates seeing liquid burn through Zitao's eyes most. He hates seeing it next to the 'acts of love' he used to do with Yifan. Abhoration fuels in him.  
  
Luhan holds him, tighter this time, a reminder that he still has someone beside him. Someone to mourn with. Except Luhan really does not bother enough.  
  
"I'm so scared..." Zitao confesses and Luhan takes it an opportunity to show Zitao how much he is 'loved'.  
  
A kiss to his ear. Another one on his jaw and he feels the human tenses. Luhan holds Zitao's face, such a small face for a beautiful person. Such a tragic fate for a beautiful person.  
  
"W-What—"  
  
"You're beautiful. And you need to be loved." Another kiss on his lips.  
  
It lasts longer this time.  
  
  
  
  
  


  
_**U** nknown_   


  
  
  
The sun is about to appear, golden hue illuminating from the opened windows of his room. Zitao has not closed his eyes even for once. On his side another naked body, honey brown hair, beautiful fake eyes, irises illuminating like a dying christmas light.  
  
The clone stirs and pushes himself up, placing a kiss on his temple to greet him a 'good morning', something Yifan has never done to him.  
  
"Hey." Zitao greets.  
  
"Didn't sleep?" Luhan asks, hands reaching for a stick of cigarette on the bedside table.  
  
"Can't." Zitao admits.  
  
Luhan hums. Blowing a thick fume off his mouth.  
  
Zitao's mind is as clouded, dirtied even, with all the thoughts consuming him and all the blame he's drowning himself into.  
  
"I've got not idea what I should do now." Zitao admits, closing his eyes, and god, he is so tired.  
  
"You know what to do. You've always known the right thing to do."  
  
  
  
  
  


  
_**L** ove_   


  
  
  
Luhan has always known Zitao is in full capability to do what he—both of them—thinks is right. Today Zitao goes to work, continuing the life he has. Living again. Anew.  
  
Luhan on the other hand, learns. He has already memorized the alphabet, managed to read and write well, can count until a few thousands and recognize at least a hundred flags of different countries.  
  
He keeps himself busy until Zitao comes home, he cleans the house, trashes all of the stuff Zitao can kill himself with. Luhan will  _die_ without and for Zitao. He cannot risk that for the artificial life of his.  
  
The clock strikes nine and any minute Zitao will go home, Luhan has already cleaned what needed to be, he has done the laundry too and has cooked dinner. He patiently waits for Zitao, ears open and mind alert.  
  
A few minutes later, he hears rustling of feet, tapping against tiled floors. When the door opens, Luhan smiles brightly, only to bring it into a frown when Zitao comes home with a painfully familiar looking guy. Like a monster in his dreams.  
  
"What... What is this...?" Luhan says, referring to the huge figure Zitao came home with.  
  
Zitao smiles at him then, holding the hand of the clone he brought home. "EXO Yifan 1106, meet my friend, EXO Luhan 0420."  
  
Luhan stiffens, eyes widening like saucers.  
  
"Zitao...? I don't understand..." he asks, horrified.  
  
"I did what you said, Luhan. I did what I think was right." Zitao casts a longing look on the clueless clone looking around his apartment. _Their_  apartment. "Isn't he beautiful?" Zitao whispers to no one.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing."


End file.
